


However plain you be

by Mawgon



Category: The Pirates of Penzance - Sullivan/Gilbert
Genre: F/M, OOC (Frederic is not superficial)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:20:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5788609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawgon/pseuds/Mawgon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To say that Mabel is plain would be an understatement. She is ugly, and has no illusions about it. She has always admired a sense of duty in a man, and when she meets Frederic, it is love at first sight.<br/>Trouble is, he didn't see her when he swore to marry any one maiden, however plain, who would want him. So what does he feel about the promise he made and is bound by honour to keep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking some freedom with the original. The pirates' plan to marry General Stanley's daughters by force is akin to rape, and I am convinced that rape, even planned rape, is not ever funny (except maybe if the would-be rapists die a gory death, but that's a different kind of amusement), so that does not happen here. Since I want him to be a sympathetic character, Frederic never considers marrying Ruth (let's be real, she's more or less raised him, it is so wrong on so many levels), so the question of her attractiveness does not come up. Let's say she stays with the pirates, she seems to be rather happy there.  
> I am also on the fence about the paradox about Frederic's age, but it might come up. 
> 
> This story is mostly based on the movie scene in this youtube video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QdPPdOox5M . Just, you know, with an actually ugly Mabel, and less singing, because much as I love singing, people don't do it as much in real life, and it looks silly in a written story. (Not that this story is not silly. A story based on Pirates of Penzance is bound to be silly)
> 
> I may get a bit confused with the names of Mabel's sisters. Please forgive me, I have to go by the information in youtube videos, and there are a lot of sisters. (It is my headcanon that their mother died early because giving birth to so many babies in such a short time just cannot be healthy. Maybe half of them are quintuplets)

It was the Major General’s wont to invite the young men under his command round for dinner to his house. He felt it was his duty as father to introduce all deserving young men of his acquaintance to his daughters, to keep a steady supply of admirers flowing. After all, young girls loved to dance and flirt and be courted, and he was a doting father. 

This evening, only one young man had been added to the dinner table. He was, Mabel observed, highly educated, polite and well-spoken. 

Conversation turned to the ball they would all go to the next evening. “I realize I am rather late”, the young man said with an apologetic smile. “But is there, by any chance, some place left on Miss Mabel’s dance card?”

Had he really said her name? 

“Oh, I am sure she has some space for you.” Kate answered in her stead, when Mabel hesitated too long. “Is that not so, Mabel?”

It was not without some embarrassment that Mabel handed him her dance card, which was glaringly empty. 

Her newly acquired admirer wrote his name on the very last line, the line her sisters usually saved for their favourites. 

As he thanked her prettily, Mabel could not help but feel that she should thank him instead – but the rules of etiquette were not such that this would be appropriate. 

 

At this ball, she had a much better time than at all the others before. She had something to look forward to. 

So she happily saw to it that her father had a drink whenever he returned from dancing with some or the other lady of consequence, made conversations with the mothers and matrons who weren’t dancing, and occasionally glanced to the clock at the head of the room. 

It was, she figured, good that he had chosen the last dance in that it was a great compliment, and also in that it gave her something to look forward to for the whole evening, but it was testing her patience. 

While she sat down at the side of the room, she overheard the conversation of two young men. 

“I have asked three ladies already, their dance cards are all full. It is most vexing!” said one. 

“Oh, you could always ask Miss Mabel”, the other suggested. 

She perked up. Oh yes, he could ask her! 

“Miss Mabel? No, no, I am not that desperate.”

“Hush! Watch what you say about the Major General’s daughter! They say she’s his favourite, no less!”

It was all Mabel could do not to sob into her handkerchief. Still, she had to use it to dry some few tears.  
However, she reflected, it was not as bad tonight as it would have any other evening. After all, she had something to look forward to. 

Finally, finally, the time for the last dance came, and her partner ... limped towards her. 

“I am so very sorry, Miss Mabel”, he said. “But I have sprained my ankle in the second-to-last dance. I shall need to see a doctor. Words cannot express how sorry I am, truly ...”

“Oh! How terrible! You should go and see a doctor at once, indeed!” 

 

On the way home, her father observed that she was unusually silent, but she claimed it was all because of her disappointment about not getting to dance after all. She didn’t mention the conversation she had overheard, after all, they had thought their words to be strictly between the both of them, and it would not be decent to bring this insult to her father’s attention.

When she went to sleep, Mabel was almost consoled. Maybe, maybe, the young man would ask again when the next ball drew close. He had been so devastated about not being able to keep his promise, after all. 

Early in the morning, Mabel awoke and could not get to sleep again, so she donned her riding dress, saddled her mare Daffodil and went for a ride. 

As it turned out, some young men had had the same idea. It was only because Daffodil, ever the clever horse, turned her head towards them and raised her ears that Mabel noticed them. 

“You really shouldn’t go riding with that sprained ankle of yours”, a deep voice said, then laughed. 

“Oh, shush! It was most ingenious of me, don’t you think?”

“Asking General Stanley for a promotion after asking his favourite daughter to dance, and then pretend to have sprained your ankle? Why, yes, most ingenious, just a tad bit dishonest. And also most suspicious. If you had sprained your ankle in the middle of the evening, it would have been more believable. How terribly convenient, that you got to dance almost all evening!”

Daffodil whinnied, and danced impatiently. She must have noticed Mabel’s distress, dear horse. 

Tears flowing, Mabel pressed her ankles into the mare’s sides. “Home”, she whispered. “Take me home.”

Back in the stable, she sobbed shamelessly and cried into Daffodil’s mane so much that she had to dry it with a towel afterwards. 

She had to treat her eyes with a cold metal piece of the reins to remove the redness and swelling before she was fit to be seen by anyone again. 

“My dear Daffodil”, she whispered. “You are my only friend in the world.” Sure, she dearly loved her sisters and father, but they were not friends – they had to put up with her because they were family. 

And she knew that other girls only sought her company because she was no competition – and because she was the Major General’s daughter. 

She looked at herself in the broken mirror she had placed there so that she would not return from riding with her hair in inacceptable disarray. 

Yes, her eyes were quite normal again, and her hair had not loosened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my bad English - but do correct it wherever you want to. 
> 
> Not so sure I have the time correctly penned down, I've researched some things for the Victorian Age, but my knowledge of Ye Olde England is mostly derived from Jane Austen novels.

With a sigh, Mabel fastened the bonnet’s ties under her chin. It was no good, shadowing her face would not do one jot against her bad complexion. Her face was full of pimples, ever had been since she had been eleven years old. 

Plain, it had been before that. Keeping it from getting dark from the sun wouldn’t help much. 

Mabel knew what her duty was. Her father cherished all his daughters, and she would stay with him to care for him in his old age. With a face like hers, she could not hope of entering the state of matrimony. 

Even so. It would have been nice if men were a bit more polite. Etiquette demanded that they dance with every girl, even the plain ones.   
And not only promise to do so to curry favour with her father. It was not as though that was necessary, he was a very generous man. 

Father knew she was plain, she was sure. He never said it, of course. The most he would admit to was that her face was homely. “Like, it fits perfectly within our lovely home”, he would say. 

The thought brought a smile to her face. Yes, father loved her, and that he would forever remain the only man to do so was no reason to complain. 

 

And her sisters loved her too ... even though they would tease her mercilessly about her “obsession” with duty, as they put it. 

Mabel made it a point to always keep her word. The world, she was convinced, would be a much better place to live in if everyone did so.   
At least, in such a world, Mabel would not have to endure the mortification of having a man pretend to have sprained his ankle – just imagine! – just to get out of dancing with her. 

 

She gazed into the mirror once more, making sure her dress was in order, and then ran after her sisters. 

 

It was her favourite thing in the world, walking about with her sisters, queens of their own little world. Here, in the untouched nature, it was easy to forget all her sorrows. 

So beautiful was the day, that the more daring ones of her sisters decided to remove their shoes and stockings, and go wade through the shallow water at the beach. 

Mabel hesitated. It would be nice, to feel the sand between her toes, something she faintly remembered from when she had been a little girl. Alas, it was not proper to show her feet in public now that she was a young lady, and they were in public, technically, any second a man could ...

There was a noise, a noise that sounded very much like a male voice. Mabel at once ran and hid behind some bushes, feeling, even though she had not participated, some deal of embarrassment for the impropriety of her sisters. 

At least the man had made his presence known before they had stripped off not only their shoes but their stockings. Even so ...

She peered out between the bushes. Oh! Not just a man, but ... such endearing, untameable curly hair! Such a surprisingly attractive tanned face! And his broad shoulders in that shirt ... It was good that she had hidden, she could not have borne to be scorned by such a man. 

 

And how gently he spoke! His confession of having been a pirate barely registered, as she enjoyed the pure beauty of his voice. Yet his pitiful tale at once evoked her compassion. 

She could barely withhold a gasp when he offered his heart to each one of her sisters who would have it, asking in return the love of a pure maiden to redeem him. 

If only ... never had the certainty of her plainness stung so. Now, her dreams of matrimonial bliss had a face, and a very beautiful one at that. How would she bear seeing him day after day, as her brother in law, knowing she could never have him?  
She would, of course, do her duty, but ...

 

And to duty, the beautiful stranger appealed, asking them to give up their matrimonial ambitions and marry him instead. As if marrying him was not the highest ... right, maybe he was not a gentleman, but what did that matter? He was a man who knew the moral beauty of putting duty first. 

Alas, none of her sisters would even consider him. She could not imagine why. Had his words about having a sense of duty put them off? Could they not see what a fine, reliable husband such a man would make?

He continued to entreat them, this time promising that he would love any who would have him, even if she be plain of face. 

It was as if he was talking to Mabel ... though he could not see her ... or could he?

Oh! If only ... but it could not be. He would shun her like all the other men did, the moment he saw her. 

And still her sisters did not show willing to consider him, no, they didn’t even mention Mabel to him. 

So, after giving her sisters lots of opportunity to change their minds, she chose to reveal herself. Maybe ... maybe his words about a sense of duty were not empty, maybe he would keep his word. 

 

He was shocked when he saw her, she noticed. Though he did hide it very well and bowed in a very elegant fashion, while her sisters exclaimed her name. 

“If ...” She cleared her throat. “If such poor love as mine can give you peace of mind, then ... it is yours.” Her shoes, she noticed, were a bit dusty, probably because of the sandy underground. Her heart raced violently in her breast, and her face must have the colour of a ripe strawberry. Every moment he would reject her, find some excuse, and then ...

“Miss Mabel, is it?” he said gently. “Call me Frederic.” He took her hand. “Allow me.” 

She looked him in the eyes, her heart calming. Allow him? What? She would allow anything, if ...

He lifted her hand to his lips and ... actually kissed it!

Behind her, she heard her sisters gasp. 

Well, Mabel thought to herself, a bit amused, he was a pirate. One could not expect him to know that actually touching a lady’s hand with your lips was highly inappropriate.


End file.
